


answer your phone, idiot

by Corvid404



Series: wanna see how hard i can self-project onto dream? [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Clay | Dream Has ADHD (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Fluff, Gen, Insomnia, M/M, Platonic Relationships, Roommates, Texting, mentions of eating, no beta we die like george in manhunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29098380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvid404/pseuds/Corvid404
Summary: Clay contemplates his fucked sleep schedule and current living arrangements while Nick ignores his texts.-aka,🧍♂️ do. you. want. food. 🧍♂️🧍♂️do. you. want. lamb.🧍♂️in long format
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: wanna see how hard i can self-project onto dream? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2180787
Comments: 8
Kudos: 259





	answer your phone, idiot

Clay groaned, pulling his comforter over his head as he realized he was  _ awake _ . He didn’t want to be awake, he’d been having such an amazing dream… A dream that’s plotline was completely forgotten as he bathed in the darkness of his shut eyes.

Maybe if he laid there long enough, with his eyes glued shut, he could return to it. 

After what felt like hours of laying with his thoughts, tossing and turning under the covers, he gave in and let his eyes flutter open. A hand groped towards his nightstand, tapping on his phone screen--the light blinded him, bleary eyes struggling to focus on the digits.

_ 4:18 am. _

Damn, his sleep schedule really was fucked, wasn’t it? He pushed a short puff of air through his nose in amusement.  _ All  _ of their sleep schedules were fucked. He’d talked briefly with Eret the other day, musing about falling asleep and waking up when the sun rose and fell, and plenty of others in the discord chimed in with similar stories--much to the horror of those who were forced into regularity because of school and work. 

The longer he stared at the screen, the more the wires in his brain buzzed, the less he felt like curling back up and laying in bed until the sun rose in three hours. He slid open one of the Discord notifications to read through what they’d been talking about while he slept.

Nearly two hours passed while he sat in bed, tapping through DMs and group chats and servers (the ones he was still in, anyway). When every red dot was gone, he swapped over to Twitter, then Instagram, flipping between socials until he grew tired of fanart and fan theories and heartfelt DM requests. 

_ 5:52 am. _

Clay’s bladder called to him, and with a heavy sigh he admitted that he  _ did  _ in fact need to get out of bed to at the very least  _ piss _ . Fine. With one final huff of annoyance, he finally kicked off the covers and stumbled towards his bathroom.

He might as well shower while he was in there--the house always seemed uncomfortably warm, despite his best friend and now roommate’s constant complaints of it being cold, and a cold shower would help lift the heat off his skin.

The icy sensation enveloping him was refreshing.

Just as he turned off the shower head, he heard an angry shout from upstairs. 

Ah, so Nick was awake.

A few more hours passed in pleasant silence after he got dressed. Clay had always enjoyed the late hours of the night and early mornings, sitting in front of his computer with some project open on his monitor in front of him. When he was younger and still had daytime obligations to fulfill, it was because he’d gotten entranced by the countless ideas swirling in his head, begging to be brought to life. He’d stare at his screen, watching code compile or words fly from his brain into a document, turning dumb game ideas and grand stories into half-baked realities. It was those same transfictions that had permanently fucked his sleep schedule up now: with nothing to stop him, no conscious telling him,  _ “If you don’t sleep, you’ll be tired at work tomorrow, _ ” he found himself staying awake from dusk until dawn, only giving in to rest when he was jolted by his head physically collapsing onto his desk or he hit a frustrating roadblock of some sort. Friends used to help, but they’d all fallen off, too.

_ 7:43 am. _

His self-reflection was interrupted by a nauseating pain from his gut. Shit, he hadn’t eaten since dinner yesterday. He grabbed his phone to shoot Nick a text,  _ “hey do you want food?” _ before pocketing it and abruptly rising from his chair and making his way to the kitchen.

After pulling open most of their cabinets and staring into the lifeless white light of the fridge for far too many minutes, he pulled his phone out again. No response, he was probably in the middle of a game and hadn’t noticed the notification. He sent another.

_ “im gonna make something rq do you want anything?” _

He dug around the fridge for a bit. There was some lamb meat sitting in a corner he’d previously overlooked--he could work with that. A bit heavy for nearly eight in the morning, but both had already been up for who knew how long. He wasn’t even certain Nick had slept at all.

_ 7:55 am. _

Still no response.

_ “we have lamb, any objections?” _

_ 7:56 am. _

_ “do u want any” _

_ 7:57 am. _

_ “sapnap” _

_ “sap do u want food” _

_ “dont make me use ur name with u” _

_ 7:58 am. _

_ “i will if u dont reply idiot” _

_ 7:59 am. _

_ “nick” _

_ 8:00 am. _

_ “nick” _

_ “nick” _

_ “nick” _

_ “nick” _

_ “nick”  _

_ “nick” _

The name barely looked like a real word at this point.

_ 8:01 am. _

_ “NICK” _

_ “dont make me come up there” _

After nearly ten more minutes with no response, it was clear the strategy of “bother him until he responds” wasn’t working. An annoyed, incoherent grumble fell from his lips as Clay trudged up the stairs to Sapnap’s bedroom door.

He didn’t bother to knock before letting himself in.

“Do you want food?” he asked plainly, suddenly using the door to shield himself as he saw OBS open on his friend’s second monitor. The facecam wasn’t turned on, but the sight alone sent a wave of panic through his blood.

It was clear his sudden appearance had caught his friend off-guard, focused on a game of what looked like CS:GO. Nick quickly reached a hand up to pull up one of his headphone pads. “Uhh, sure! I’ll take some food.”

Annoyance seeped into his tone as he continued, “Do you want lamb?”

Laughter mingled with Nick’s reply, “Sure, I’ll take some lamb.”

“Ok.” Clay gently pulled the door shut behind him, a muffled but warm thanks following him through the thin barrier.

He sighed as he went back downstairs, the sun now fully up and casting warm, golden light into the house. He’d been initially uncertain at first, what living with his best friend would be like. How much would they even get to talk face to face, what with their mutually fucked sleep schedules and countless friends still at a distance, still forced to speak over Discord? It was these simple moments that made it worth it. The simple ability to walk in almost whenever and get an immediate response, whereas over Discord or text it’d anywhere from a minute to three hours and a missed call later.

_ 9:12 am. _

“-and that’s what  _ I _ said, ‘Yo, watch this,’ and you should’ve  _ seen _ the trick I pulled dude,-” Nick was hastily recounting the bedwars games he’d played that night between mouthfuls of mutton. 

Clay was much more focused on actually eating than adding anything to the conversation. His plate was nearly empty by the time Sap had finished talking, looking to him for some sort of input--knowing him, probably a compliment to his gaming skills. He used the back of his hand to wipe as his mouth before replying, “Damn, wish I’d seen that then.”

“Yeah yeah, I could’ve screenshared it to you if you weren’t  _ asleep, _ dumbass.”

He snorted. “I don’t remember asking for your input on my sleep schedule. You don’t even have one.”

“HEY!”

The quick retort earned a wheezing laugh, and the kitchen was quickly filled with half-meant insults, mentions of each other’s mothers, and bright, golden laughter. 

He wouldn’t trade this for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos make brain go brrrr please consider leaving some. thanks for reading!


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